Sunday, September 8, 2013

I've been enjoyably busy. My book comes out October 1st. Please look for it.

This was something I thought was fun awhile back.I
recently did a play where a cast member gave me, Where the Red Fern Grows.
This week, “Apalachicola”

With
a loud crack, all the students but one jumped when they heard the 5th grade
teacher slam the ruler on her desk.

“Now
that I have your attention, let’s begin. Good morning class. Today we’re going
to study Florida, the 27th state. Can anyone tell me where Florida is?” The class sprung to life.

The
smart kids in front, stiff and rigid, quickly raised their
hands, a bit smug from the years of self-reliance. The less prepared ones,
unsure of such a question and not wanting to be called upon, waved timidly. “Pick me! Pick me! Miss Renfro, pick me!”

But, Brian,
staring out the window, didn’t raise his hand, fixed on what was going on just
yards away.

Noticing,
Miss Renfro wanted to engage the lackadaisical student.

“Brian...
Brian!”

“Yes,
Miss Renfro.”

“Young
man, will you please tell the class what you find so interesting, outside of
that window?”

“Um, it’s the clouds, Miss Renfro. That’s what
it is. I’m, uh, looking at the clouds.”

“Well,
you do seem to have your head in them. Tell me, Mr. Wilkins, where is the city
of Apalachicola?”

Brian
turns to her, his mind still not all there says, “I think it’s next to, um,
half-a-glass-a-cola?”

The
classroom erupts in laughter.

“He’s
so stupid.”

“Brian
is whack.”

“That
boy, he crazy.”

“He
ain’t going to be smarter than a 5th grader.”

Brian's
attention was now back to where it belonged. He closed his eyes and started to feel
the flush of embarrassment. “I’m such an idiot,” he thought to himself and sunk
down into his desk.

Walking
home, books in hand, and a map of Florida folded in his back pocket, he tries
to forget homeroom and what the 27th state did to him. He sees the only person
his age he cares about, Sophie, a neighbor from across the street of his
Shreveport, Louisiana home.

“Not
a good day today, huh, Brian?”

“No,
it sure wasn’t. But, now I do know, Apalachicola is 80 miles southwest of
Tallahassee, and has over 2000 people living in it, and is named after Indians,
American Indians, not the ones from Turkey.

“Well,
I thought it was funny, what you said today.”

“Thanks,
but I wasn’t trying to be funny.”

“It
was funny, anyways.”

“Yea,
I guess it was; Half-a-glass-a cola.”

They
walked down the suburban line of houses, upper-middle class, most with two
stories, but Sophia, she lived in an odd dilapidated place, no curtains or things
that said a lady lives here. She asked Brian, “What was it that had you so
fixed on outside of the classroom?”

Brian
got excited.

“You’re
not going to believe this. Principle Young was talking to Mayor Roy and they
were really going at it. They were moving their arms around and pointing to
each other’s face. I heard Principle Young say, "You know those cemeteries
are not to be distributed. I will make sure you don’t do it.”

Mayor
Roy then said, “I don’t care if a thousand ghosts are going to get in my way,
that land is mine.” Then the mayor pushed Principle Young and stormed off in my
direction. When the mayor passed the window, he saw me lookin’ and it gave me a
scare. That’s when Miss Renfro asked me the question about Florida.”

“Why
didn’t you say something?”

I
couldn’t. My mind was a flutter. All I heard was Apalachicola, and then I
thought, Coke-a-cola. Then I thought half-a-glass-a-cola. It just came out,
Sophia.”

“Yea,
I say dumb stuff like that when I get nervous. One time, in church, I was
supposed to say “Jesus Saves” and it came out, “Jesus shaves.” My daddy laughs
about it all the time.”

Brian
asked, “Do you think he’s alright, Principle Young?”

“I
don’t know. Maybe we should just see what happens,” and both were now in front
of their houses.

“Well,
I’ll see you later Brian.”

“See
you later, too, and don’t tell anybody what I said. OK.”

“No,
I won’t.”

Brian
walked into his house feeling much better and felt relieved that the
Apalachicola incident was behind him. His mother, always happy to see her only
son was waiting in the kitchen and asked how his day went. He told her the
always “fine,” threw his books on the table and went into the living room,
turned on the TV and started to play some video games. Just as he grabbed the
joysticks, he heard a knock on the door and wondered what Sophia wanted. He got
up, opened the door, and it was Mayor Roy.“Hello,
Brian. Is your mother home?”

About Me

From an an early age I knew what I wanted to do. I've done radio, TV, stand-up, the stage, opera, written plays, musicals, creative director for an arts an entertainment magazine, owned nightclubs and restaurants. I'm a terrible business man. I host the morning show on 96.7 KCIL, Houma, La. #RRBC